


Bat Things Happen

by LukaFawn



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Assisted Suicide, Brainwashing, If I Can't Have You, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Possessive Behavior, Slowly Running Out Of Air, Stitches, Suicide mention, Trapped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-07-29 00:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LukaFawn/pseuds/LukaFawn
Summary: Bat Boy prompts based on the Bad Things Happen Bingo. Heavy angst ahead.





	1. Mercy Killing (Jason x Tim)

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got my [Bad Things Happen Bingo Card!](https://the-fawnling.tumblr.com/post/178905467949/here-is-your-card-for-bad-things-happen-bingo) This first prompt, **Mercy Killing** , is requested by Thotwing on tumblr.

Tim’s apartment was empty when Jason stopped over. Jason stood in the living room and knew that he was the only living thing that had been there for a long time. He found this odd because not only was Tim still getting mail there, all his shit was still there. It worried Jason more than he cared to admit. He had come over hoping to have breakfast with Tim - something they did while Jason was in Gotham - but apparently that wasn’t happening today.

 

Before Jason shot off the balcony, he sent a text asking where Tim was. The text was never answered and before long, Jason was occupied with his next case. The thought niggled in the back of his mind but maybe Tim had just changed his number. Maybe it had been compromised somehow. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, Jason assured himself as he shot a sex trafficker between the eyes.

 

It took a while before Jason realized that Tim wasn’t just missing in the apartment. He was missing in Gotham. None of the other heroes talked about him. He was a blank space that they just walked around. Every time Jason asked about him, the conversation was redirected or he was met with an _‘I dunno where he is._ ’ Jason hadn’t seen Tim in months, not on the streets and not at home. Apparently, no one else had either.

 

Jason was the only one worried. The only one who was _really_ worried. Tim hadn’t disappeared for this long since he’d been thought dead. No one knew where he was and no one cared. Damian had often called Tim ‘ _the easily forgotten Robin_ ’ but Jason never saw him like that. He needed to find his brother and he needed to do it soon because every day without knowing where Tim was sent Jason up the wall.

 

When he wanted to, Jason could be so so quiet. He didn’t have Tim’s ability to fade completely into the background but he could come close to it. Red Hood slowly vanished from the streets. He became a shadow; darkness incarnate come to wreck havoc on the bad guys and then disappear into the night like a phantom. Most of the time, though, Red Hood was following Dick and Damian. If anyone knew where his brother had gone it was his other two brothers. This was how Jason found out Tim’s whereabouts.

 

He was at Wayne Manor.

 

That was all that Jason understood. When Dick and Damian spoke of Tim they never used his name or any of his aliases so it had taken a while to understand who they were speaking of. The things they said didn’t make any sense either. It was like they were speaking another language; one that Jason didn’t know. For all that he didn’t know, the where was enough for Jason.

 

Breaking into Wayne Manor was so, so easy. Bruce and Alfred were long dead and Tim had built a trap door in the security for Jason to get through. No one had found or plugged that hole. It was as easy as strolling through the front door. Jason had the cameras playing on loop. He wasn’t sure what he would find but Jason knew in his gut that it wouldn’t be good.

 

He had one night to find Tim because after tonight, Jason didn’t think he could keep doing this. He couldn’t keep worrying. He needed answers. Jason intended to search the manor from top to bottom but it proved unnecessary after searching the first few guest rooms.

 

All of the furniture had been moved out of the room. In its place was a large white thing like a pod. The room was dark except for the LED timer on the pod. It was counting down. Instinct told Jason that Tim was in that thing. He approached warily, ran his fingertips over the smooth surface. It felt warm to the touch. There were no windows or buttons on the pod. Two silver handles jutted out front the front. Jason studied it for a long moment. He had no fucking clue what it was but he knew that Batman hadn’t finalized any healing pods and that someone would have fucking mentioned Tim being hurt that bad.

 

Actually, when he thought of it, the thing sort of looked like an oversized coffin.

 

The idea that Tim was dead in there made Jason’s throat swell shut with emotion. No. Nope. Not thinking about that. Jason walked around the device again before deciding that opening it wouldn’t have any negative effects on the person inside. He didn’t understand what the timer was for but opening the pod would probably be okay. If not, Jason was fairly good at putting people back together. He’d figure it out.

 

Jason opened the pod. The top swung up and the interior suddenly glowed with neon blue lights. He smelled saltwater. There was only about two feet worth of water in the pod but the fact that it was there at all was baffling.

 

Floating in the water was Tim. He was naked and pale, face drawn and skeletal. His chest rose and fell shallowly. Tim didn’t move a fucking inch, didn’t react to the sudden light or Jason’s presence. His eyes were open but he didn’t blink for a long time. He didn’t look very alive but he definitely wasn’t dead.

 

Jason had honestly never seen anything more terrifying in his life. Tim’s name caught in his throat several times before Jason was able to force it past his lips. “Tim?” He reached out to touch his brother then hesitated. Everything about this was sick and wrong and Jason didn’t understand what was going on here. One thing was for certain, he needed to get Tim out of this thing. “Hey, baby bird,” Jason tried again.

 

Tim didn’t move. Didn’t react at all.

 

Gods. Fuck. That was scary. Jason steeled himself then reached down and touched Tim’s shoulder. His skin was damp above the water and it didn’t fall off him like Jason had half expected it to.

 

Tim blinked. It was a slow, dazed blink.

 

Well, that was something. Jason reached under Tim’s arms and hauled him out. He was pretty sure that Titus weighed more than Tim did now. Tim was so light that Jason stumbled backwards into the wall.

 

Tim gasped. He was slow to come to back to life but when he did he screamed. Tim curled in on himself and wailed. He held his hands out in front of him, shaking, like he didn’t know what to do with them.

 

“Tim! Tim! Hey, hey, baby, relax. I’ve got you. It’s just me. I’ve got you, Tim. I’ve got you, baby bird.” Jason held on to his brother, held on for dear fucking life even though Tim wasn’t trying to get away. The screaming racketed up his spine and twisted all of his nerves until Jason slapped a hand over Tim’s mouth. He turned Tim’s face towards him, so that he could look Tim in the eye. “Hush, baby bird. I’ve got you.”

 

The screaming cut off as abruptly as it started. Tim stared at him with pupils narrowed to pinpricks. That wasn’t right. It was dark in here, his pupils should be dilated. Tim moved his mouth several times before he was able to speak, “J-Jason?” His voice was raw, sandpaper and chainsaws and creaking glaciers. It was like he hadn’t used his voice in months.

 

“The one and only.” Jason couldn’t even bring himself to smile. Something was wrong here. Something was so, so wrong here. He held Tim close. All he could smell was saltwater; Tim’s natural scent was gone. Erased. “What happened? Why were you in there?”

 

For a second Tim just looked confused. Then his expression turned dark and guarded. The next instant his expression was open and earnest. “I need you to help me, Jay.” He clung to Jason’s jacket. His hands still shook, his legs trembled beneath him. Jason was the only thing keeping him upright.

 

“What do you need?”

 

Tim’s blue eyes shone with desperation. “They won’t let me die.”

 

Jason stopped breathing. When he finally sucked in a breath it was painful. “What?”

 

“Damian and Dick. They won’t let me die.” Tim twisted in Jason’s arms, pushed all his weight against him. They fell back against the wall again. Tim licked his lips. “You aren’t like them, though. You’ll help me, won’t you? Please help me, Jay.”

 

Jason’s ears rang. He knew what Tim was saying but...but that couldn’t be right. Tim wanting to die was...it sounded… Jason shook his head. “Let’s find you some clothes.” Because Tim was still naked and the manor wasn’t known for its central heating. “Can you walk?”

 

Tim shrugged. He seemed annoyed.

 

Jason ducked down to scoop him up bridal style. “Do you really want to die?”

 

Tim wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck. He laid his head against Jason’s chest. “Don’t fucking patronize me, Jason.”

 

That was a yes. Jason left the room but he didn’t feel any better for it. Tim was soaking his uniform. He was suddenly uncomfortably aware that he was armed and all his guns were loaded. He tried to stay calm but his heart was pounding and he knew that Tim would be able to feel it. “Would you walk me through the reasoning?”

 

Tim started with a list of everyone he loved who had died. It was a long list. He then listed how many of those deaths were his fault and “shut up Jason, they are.” He explained how he had barely escaped the slaughter at Sanctuary because he’d gotten in a fight with Roy and wanted to go for a walk and that was when they’d struck. “I should have died with them, Jay.” Tim told him what it was like to miss out on going to school, on becoming the CEO of a company at sixteen. He told him about how he was responsible for lining everyone's pockets and making sure that his employees were well taken care of and how three lab students had died testing new Batman toys and Tim had had to write the letters to their families. “They were just kids, Jason. They didn’t even know that the toys were for the Family.”

 

Tim talked about the Teen Titans while Jason went into his room and found one of Bruce’s old shirts squirreled away and a pair of sweats. He talked about the shit Damian was trying to pull by taking the company from him while Jason dressed him and grabbed a blanket and carried him outside. Tim barely paused when the night air hit him. He blinked and looked around then kept talking, this time about how he’d been made into Joker’s and Harley’s pet and the hell they’d put him through. Gods, he had so much to fucking say. It was just one thing piled on top of another.

 

Jason was tired just listening to him. He’d been through some of that drama and more of his own and he could empathize. Listening to Tim, Jason honestly couldn’t say what was keeping him going. He couldn't imagine what was keeping Tim going. And he realized, painfully, that there was _nothing_ keeping him going. Tim was alive because Damian and Dick literally wouldn’t let him die.

 

Jason walked out to the flower garden with Tim in his arms. It was tended as always though Alfred had long since passed. The flowers lent a fresh, sweet smell to the air. He spread out the blanket then set Tim down on it. He sat down behind him and pulled Tim close.

 

Tim leaned against him with a sigh. “It’s hell being in there.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“A sensory deprivation tank. I can’t hear, see, smell, or feel anything.” Tim rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “It only opens from the outside.”

 

A coffin. They’d put their brother in a coffin and unlike Jason, Tim couldn’t escape. Jason held him tighter. “How long have you been in there?”

 

Tim hummed. “They let me out every three or four days but that’s just to force another nutrient tablet into me so that I don’t starve to death.” He sounded resigned to his fate.

 

That explained the timer. Except… “How long?”

 

“What month is it?”

 

“September.”

 

“About six months.”

 

Rage poured into Jason’s veins. It flooded his system and Jason hadn’t felt such a keen sense of injustice since he’d found out that Joker was still alive after murdering him. He pressed his lips to Tim’s neck, right over the scar he’d put there years ago.

 

Tim gave an appreciative noise. He reached back and threaded his fingers in Jason’s hair. In a whisper he asked, “Will you do it?”

 

How could he answer that? His baby brother was hurting, was carrying the weight of the fucking world on his shoulders. What Tim was doing didn’t even classify as living anymore. The tears spilled over before Jason could stop them. They poured hot down his cheeks and onto Tim’s shoulder.

 

“Please, Jay.” Tim nuzzled him. He pressed into Jason as though hoping he could be absorbed into him.

 

“I love you,” Jason said because he didn’t know what else to say. He was sobbing now, hurt noises tearing from his throat. He shook as he cried and clung so hard to Tim. He wished he could absorb Tim into his body and just keep him there forever; happy and safe and warm and loved.

 

“I know,” Tim whispered. He sounded like he was in pain. His fingers tightened in Jason’s hair. “I love you too.”

 

Gods, Jason was going to die. His heart hurt so much he thought it might give out. He felt sick with the knowledge that Tim wanted to die. Sick with the knowledge of what Damian and Dick had done to keep him alive. Why did this have to happen to him? Why was he the one Tim begged for release from? Jason’s body felt hot and feverish and so full of pain. He buried his face into Tim’s shoulder and could barely smell his normal scent on the t-shirt he wore. Bruce’s scent was long gone. He missed it. He missed both of them. What was he going to do without Tim? “But not enough…” The words got caught in Jason’s throat.

 

“It isn’t about you, Jay. I just. I need to. Please, Jason. Please. I want you to do it.” Tim twisted around and kissed him. He licked the tears off Jason’s cheek. His voice turned wet with emotion and he cried too. The tears spilled down between them. “I love you. I love you so much. Please do this for me. Please. I love you. Jay, please, I don’t want to live anymore.” He kissed Jason again.

 

How many times had Jason thought of kissing Tim? Of holding him in his arms and telling him that he loved him? None of his fantasies had ever played out like this. The reality was raw and painful, like a knife in the back and salt in the wound. Jason kissed Tim back, kissed him hard because this was the only chance he’d get to do it. Because he knew that no matter how much feeling he poured into the kiss, Jason couldn’t make Tim want to live. “How?” Jason took a deep breath. “How do you want…?”

 

Tim lifted Jason’s hands from the small of his back to his neck. “Just like this.” He kissed Jason again. “This is perfect.” His lips tasted like salt against Jason’s. “It’s okay. I promise.” He pressed Jason’s hands hard against his neck. “I love you, Jason Todd.”

 

Jason felt the bones and tendons in Tim’s neck shifting. His hands were so big compared to Tim’s slender frame. Tim wasn’t just slender anymore; he was skinny and skeletal. The nutrients their brothers had been feeding him were keeping him alive but only just. Jason kissed him. He splayed his fingers over Tim’s neck and felt his steady pulse beneath his palm. Tim wasn’t afraid of dying, wasn’t afraid of the pain that would come, or that Jason would somehow botch the job. “I love you too, Tim.” All it took was a surge of strength. A wretch of his hands.

 

Tim’s neck broke so easily as though he was naught but a doll in the hands of a child. A bird in the jaws of a cat. His body slumped against Jason’s, limp and still.

 

Jason cradled him, held him close. He rocked back and forth, ignored the way Tim’s head lolled with the movement. The tears came down again, tasted like salt as they dipped into the corners of his mouth. He pressed his lips into Tim’s soft hair and keened. Jason cried out his grief, his heartache, both storms overfilling him. Raging oceans inside him that showed no signs of ceasing. This wasn’t what Jason had wanted when he went looking for Tim. “I love you. I love you so much. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He whispered it over and over again.

 

The sun was a pink glow in the east as it began to rise and Jason still cried and begged forgiveness and proclaimed his love to the boy who could no longer hear it. He didn’t move even though Dick and Damian would be returning at any moment. He couldn’t bare to think of leaving Tim’s body but he didn’t know where to take it. Jason was still among the flowers when Damian and Dick came home. He clung to Tim’s body and sobbed, barely aware of their presence.

 

Jason didn’t pay attention when Damian approached. He didn’t notice when Damian slipped one of his guns from its holster. The bullet ripped through his brain so fast that Jason wasn’t aware of being shot in the first place. He didn’t hear Dick screech or the scuffle that happened between the oldest and youngest brothers. Jason didn’t see the way Dick collapsed in Damian’s arms or the way he sobbed openly as the sun turned golden and promised Gotham a beautiful day. “It was a mercy killing, Richard.”


	2. Stitches (Jason x Tim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is in a bad way and Jason helps him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second prompt, Stitches (jaytim) is from Jenetic777. She's also the one whose typo became the name for this series! This was fun to write.

Tim cackled as he pointed the gun at Jason. His mouth stretched in a wide grin that he could barely feel from all of the pain blockers he was on. The laughter bubbled up within him, high pitched with terror. Tim’s hands shook, unable to keep them still enough to pull the trigger and actually hit Jason. The Joker had told Tim to shoot anyone who came through the door. At the time, Tim was confident that he could complete his mission and make Joker proud. 

 

Now that he was face to face with Jason, Tim found it difficult. Tim licked the strings that kept his mouth from opening all the way. Emotions rose within him, fought for dominance. Jason was his childhood crush. He was the man who tried to kill Tim on several occasions. He was the one who snuck into Gotham to have breakfast with Tim once a week.  Jason was his dirty little secret and Tim loved him. He didn’t want to shoot Jason. He would shoot anyone,  _ anyone  _ else who came through that door but not Jason.

 

Tim laughed because it was the only noise he could make. 

 

Jason stared at Tim in the Joker’s colors, hair bleached and dyed bright green, blue eyes a vivid absinthe green, face pale as chalk except for his cherry red lips. His gaze lingered on the black thread holding Tim’s mouth in place. Jason wore a helmet because he wore his emotions on his face. He was terrible at hiding what he felt. Now, Jason’s expression was a storm, his pain and fear written so clearly on his face that it should have been shameful. He looked at Tim and made a noise like a wounded animal. 

 

Jason looked so anguished and Tim hadn’t even shot him yet. Tim wasn’t sure he wanted to see Jason in greater pain. This was Jason and Tim loved Jason. And the Joker hadn’t thought to take that love away. They were in a stalemate, looking at each other with Tim’s gun between them. 

 

“I bet your mouth doesn’t feel so good,” Jason’s voice was low but it doesn’t come out the growl that Tim was expecting. 

 

Tim couldn’t feel his mouth. He couldn’t physically feel much of anything though, with all the drugs in his system. His tongue darted out to lick the taut strings. He tasted blood. He tried to laugh but t came out an unhappy noise. 

 

Jason advanced a step. Paused to assess then stepped forward again. “I can make you feel good.”

 

After being tortured for an entire month and then being doped up to the gills with numbing agents, all it took was the promise of pleasure for Tim to drop his gun and kick it away. He didn’t go to Jason, that was just a bit too much - Jason had to work for it - but he was unarmed at least. 

 

To his credit, Jason didn’t hesitate to approach Tim. His movements were slow and nonthreatening but he made them very clear as well. When he touched Tim’s cheek, Tim wasn’t surprised. He’d seen the action coming in Jason’s movements. There was plenty of time to step away. “Let me take you home.” 

 

Tim giggled, tone thin and wanting. He tilted his face into Jason’s hand, pushing into his palm until he could feel the pressure. He wanted to close his eyes and just trust Jason but it was hard. The Joker told him to kill everyone. The Joker made him into this lookalike. Jason hated the Joker with all the vehemence of a forest fire. He had to hate Tim too, had to hate how Tim looked just like the Joker. Something nagged at the back of his mind but the thought kept slipping away. 

 

“Can I carry you?” 

 

Tim nodded. He could walk out but as much as he wanted to go with Jason, Tim didn’t feel like he could truly leave. His feet were lead roots keeping him there on this warehouse floor where his master had told him to stay and destroy everything that came inside. 

 

Jason bent down and ran his hands down Tim’s thighs. He slid them around the back and hoisted Tim up. “Wrap your legs around me.” 

 

Tim did. His body slotted against Jason’s and felt all that hard muscle underneath Jason’s uniform. He let out a shaky breath against Jason’s neck. It wasn’t quite a kiss, only the threads sewing Tim’s mouth touched Jason’s skin, but it held all of the intimacy. 

 

Goosebumps broke out over Jason’s skin but he didn’t shy away from the threads on Tim’s mouth. Jason carried Tim out of the warehouse with no problems and no hesitation. It was clear by the bodies in the shadows that Jason had already taken care of the Joker’s clowns. 

 

Tim felt no sympathy for them. They were nameless, faceless goons. Hired help that was so desperate for a paycheck that they were willing to run with the Joker. At least that was how it started. The Joker had a way of being so charming that he wormed his way under the skin like a disease you didn’t want to cure. That wasn’t quite how Tim came into his own with the Joker but he watched it happen over and over. 

 

The car that Jason slid into wasn’t a Batmobile - and just as well since Tim would have destroyed it on sight - but it was a very nice vehicle. Jason made no attempt to let go of Tim. He followed the traffic laws all the way to his safehouse, bar the one that said riders were to stay in their own seats and not sit on the driver. When they got to his safehouse, Jason threw his jacket over Tim’s head and carried him up to the apartment. He unlocked the complicated security system and kicked the door shut after entering. As soon as he walked into the room, fairy lights lit up from their spots near the crown molding. They lit up pretty orange as Jason walked from room to room. 

 

They stopped in the bathroom. Jason gingerly set Tim down on the closed toilet lid. “Just going to get some scissors. Can you handle scissors?”

 

Tim laughed, sarcastic and sharp. He could handle scissors just fine. Scissors weren’t part of the equation. Joker hadn’t even cut off the extra string after sewing his lips. It still dangled down from the corner of his mouth. 

 

Jason returned with a delicate pair of scissors that made Jason’s large hands look graceful. With his free hand he tilted Tim’s face up. He brought the scissors to Tim’s lips as gentle as a kiss. The metal was cold against Tim’s lips. “Hold perfectly still.” One by one Jason snipped the threads through Tim’s lips. “Easy. Almost done with this part.” 

 

Tim didn’t feel anything except the coolness of the scissor blades brushing against his lips like a winter kiss. He held perfectly still for Jason. He was used to following orders and he had learned that disobeying was incredibly dangerous to his health. Tim was a good boy. 

 

Jason set the scissors down out of Tim’s reach. He leaned closer to peer at Tim’s mouth. His own mouth was set in a frown. “These have been in for a while.” He brushed the pads of his fingers along the punctures in Tim’s lips. “The skin has grown back around them.” Jason’s expression twisted into something sympathetic. “I’m gonna have to pull these out. Think you can handle it?” 

 

Again, Tim nodded. This version of joker toxin was a new batch. He couldn’t feel most of his body, his speech was completely gone, he couldn’t stop smiling. Every terrible impulse he had he wanted to give in to and it was only his love for Jason that quieted his violent thoughts. 

 

It didn’t exactly hurt when Jason started tugging the embedded threads from Tim’s skin. There was pressure and a feeling like there  _ ought  _ to be pain but it was just this shy of. Tim knew that everything would hurt after the Joker toxin had worked its way through his system. But that felt like a lifetime away. Right now there was just Tim and Jason in a small bathroom, blood on Tim’s lips and Jason’s fingertips. And for now that was enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it would be fun to bring Joker Jr back; this time with an upgrade. I wanted to do mouth stitches as soon as I'd read the option while I was choosing for my Bad Things Happen Bingo Card.


	3. Slowly Running Out Of Air (Jason x Tim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Tim are trapped in an air tight box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cinnamonrollcipher asked for jaytim running out of air.

There was no warning before the floor fell out beneath their feet and sent Jason and Tim tumbling down into the darkness. Tim landed first, body hitting something metal. Jason landed on top of him, fall barely broken by the sinewy body beneath him. Jason heard the air whoosh out of Tim’s lungs. He pushed himself up instantly. “Sorry.” 

 

Metal clanged against metal and then they were in the dark. Jason’s skin prickled with heat. His first, immediate thought was to get out. He didn’t handle small, dark spaces very well. Jason stood up and hit his head on the ceiling. His skull throbbed. He ignored it and pushed his fingers against the low ceiling. The corners were burning hot against his fingertips. “Fuck!” Jason jerked away from the ceiling, took a step backwards and felt something soft beneath his boot. “Sorry.”

 

Tim pushed himself into a sitting position. “You hit your head on something?” His voice held a wheeze to it. 

 

“Yes,” Jason replied. He braved the ceiling again, shoving his shoulders against it to test how sturdy it was. 

 

Tim hesitated before replying, “Stop apologizing. It’s weird.” And Jason saw where he had been going with that shit-taste joke. Tim let it drop, instead he moved in a circle around Jason, feeling along the bottom of their cage. “I think it’s all steel.” 

 

Jason let it go too. He wasn’t interested in fighting when he needed to get out. He reached for the top seams of the cage. It was still hot but not so much that Jason couldn’t handle it. “The top is hot.” 

 

Tim clutched Jason’s leg. “They’re  _ welding _ it. Jason! They’re welding it shut!” 

 

Jason pushed harder against ceiling. It didn’t give, not so much as an inch. He pulled a knife from his sheath and tried to dig it into the corner. If he could just peel off a little section… The knife slipped. Jason stabbed at the spot again, he dug the knife in as hard as he could. His muscles shook with the effort. 

 

Tim had let go of Jason’s leg. He sat on the floor, keeping out of Jason’s way but touching every inch of surface he could reach. After a few moments he said, “There aren’t any vents in here.” 

 

Cold flushed its way down Jason’s spine as the implications of that sunk in. “You got a light, baby bird?” 

 

“You’re the one who smokes.”

 

“You’re the boy scout.” Jason’s knife slid down the side of the cage. He tried again. He wasn’t going to die in here. He wasn’t. They weren’t. “If there aren’t any vents in here then I don’t want to use up all the oxygen with a fire.” 

 

Tim opened one of his pouches and then there was a cracking noise. Green light filled the cage and suddenly they could see each other. 

 

Jason couldn’t look into Tim’s eyes. He looked at the ceiling instead, to his progress. There were a few shallow scratches on the steel but nothing substantial. Jason stabbed at the ceiling with the knife. The knife tip curled. He scratched and scratched at the metal. If he could just puncture the steel, they would have a chance. There would be air enough to buy them time to figure out how to escape. “Tim?”

 

“Hmm?” 

 

“How long do we have?”

 

Tim didn’t answer for a long time. For several moments there was just the sound of Jason’s knife striking steel. Between strikes Tim answered, “About two hours.” 

 

Jason pursed his lips. He felt the cold tingle of panic creep up his spine and numb his hands. The box was bigger than a coffin but there were two of them and Jason was considerably bigger than Tim. Their air was going to go faster. Jason ran his fingers over the grooves in the steel. They weren’t even an inch deep with all his strength behind them. Just how thick was this steel? His heart thundered in his chest. He started up again, trying to dig his knife as deep as he could in the steel ceiling. 

 

As busy as he was with the frantic attempt at creating a breathing hole and trying to regulate his breathing through the panic attack, Jason was aware of what Tim was doing. Tim didn’t try to make a breathing hole. He went through every pocket of his utility belt, searching for something that could help. His face screwed up with worry. 

 

Half an hour passed with little to no success. Jason’s arm was sore and tired. His head and neck ached from the awkward angle he held them at. There was hard tension in his spine. The knife was all but useless at this point, the blade curled and broken. This couldn’t be average steel; Jason’s knife could cut through almost anything. The realization made something break in Jason. They were going to die in this fucking box. He dropped the knife and punched the ceiling. He punched and punched, ignored how the scratched metal tore up his gloves and how it hurt his knuckles. 

 

Another half an hour passed. Jason’s hand throbbed. Hot blood ran down the back of his hand and soaked into his sleeve. The iron smell filled the box. He kept punching the ceiling. There were some dents in the metal but no rips in it. Their air was running out. Jason was dizzy; from pain or panic or lack of oxygen, he couldn’t tell. When something finally gave it was the bones in Jason’s hand. There was a sharp stab of pain and the crack of his knuckle breaking. Some men would have screamed had they broken their knuckles. Jason just growled in pain. He made to hit the ceiling again. 

 

Tim launched himself at Jason, hung from his arm. 

 

Jason was so tired from constantly striking up that Tim’s weight dragged him to his knees. They collapsed in a pile of limbs and kevlar. Jason’s chest heaved. He shouldn’t cry, he shouldn’t give in to his panic; he was using all of their air. 

 

Tim clung to Jason and held him tight. He pulled Jason’s cheek to his chest. His heart was pounding as fast as Jason’s. His breaths were shallow. “Stop, Jay. Just stop.” 

 

“If I stop, we’ll die.” Tears ran down Jason’s cheeks. He didn’t want to die in here. But mostly he didn’t want Tim to die. It was hard to get his breath. Jason was lightheaded. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Tim’s chest. “You’ll die.” 

 

Tim’s hands shook as he ran his fingers through Jason’s hair. “It’s okay, Jason.” He took Jason’s broken hand and kissed his bloody, busted knuckles. As gentle as he was, Tim’s lips were fire on Jason’s wounds. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care.”

 

Jason tried to find the words to tell Tim that he should care about living. But Jason hadn’t wanted to come back to life himself. He couldn’t convince Tim do something that Jason himself didn’t want to do. Tim would know how hollow the words are. “Stupid boy.” 

 

“Stubborn boy,” Tim replied fondly.  He hadn’t let go of Jason’s broken hand. His breath ghosting across it sent ripples of heat through it. 

 

It hurt but Jason didn’t want to pull his hand away. They were dying and pain was temporary. Jason didn’t want those to be his last words to Tim. They still had some time but now that they were talking, their time would shrink. “Pretty boy.” 

 

“Handsome boy.” Tim held his breath. His chest briefly stopped moving but his heart kept going strong. “Jason?”

 

“Hmm?” 

 

“You’re a good boy.”

 

Jason bit back his sarcastic reply when he realized that Tim sounded sincere. Jason wasn’t stupid no matter what he may project. This was Tim telling him that nothing Jason had done was as bad as Bruce made it out to be. This was Tim telling him what Bruce should have but never did tell him. Jason wrapped an arm around Tim’s body and nuzzled his chest. “You’re a good boy too, Tim.” 

 

Tim slumped down onto his side, pulled Jason down with him again. His fingers closed around Jason’s broken hand. “What’s it like?” 

 

“What’s what like?” Black creeped up on Jason’s vision. The glow from the glowstick was as bright as before but Jason was having trouble seeing it. Lifting his head was impossible. He pulled Tim close against him. This time he wouldn’t die alone. Shame coursed through him at that selfish thought. 

 

Tim pressed the underside of his chin against Jason’s head. His words vibrated against Jason’s skull. “Being dead.” That was oddly specific and no one had ever thought to ask Jason what it was like. They normally asked what dying was like. 

 

“I didn’t want to come back,” Jason admitted. He couldn’t remember what death was like but Jason had known that he didn’t want to return to life. He watched the last of the glowstick green leave his vision. Soon, they would fall into a coma and die. 

 

Tim squeezed him but there was hardly any strength behind it. “I’m glad I’m dying with you, Jay.” 

 

“Yeah, baby bird. You too.” Jason’s voice slurred. Unconsciousness tugged at his brain. It was a familiar feeling. This time he wouldn’t be waking up and this time he wasn’t alone. 


	4. If I Can't Have You (Jason x Dick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick makes a promise he can't keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request from cinnamonrollcipher on tumblr! This one was dickjay, **If I Can't Have You.**

Jason Todd came to them with a lot of sexual experience and it took Bruce and Dick months to figure that out. He had learned early in life that everything came with a price and that the desired price was usually his body. When Bruce adopted him, Jason had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Bruce to make moves on him. Bruce had expressed confusion over some of the things Jason did and Dick had brushed it off with a simple “he isn’t me, Bruce.” 

 

Dick didn’t know the peculiars of how Bruce found out about Jason’s past. He knew it involved Jason breaking down and a fight with Bruce but that was it. Once Bruce found out that Jason was waiting for him to take advantage of the new Robin, Bruce put a ban on sex between himself and Dick. They weren’t even allowed to do it in Bludhaven. “Think of your brother, Dick.” 

 

Dick did not take the news well. Bruce was his rock, his partner. He loved Bruce even as infuriating as the older man was. And Dick was still young enough that he returned regularly to have sex with Bruce. Now they couldn’t do it  _ anywhere  _ because Bruce’s new Robin was fucked up. It didn’t sit well with Dick at all; no matter how many times Bruce patiently explained the logic of it to Dick. As far as Dick was concerned, they’d broken up officially because of the new Robin. 

 

Which was why he lost it when he found out that Jason was sleeping in his old room. And  _ how  _ he found out was by Jason coming home from patrol and face planting onto the bed. Their fighting had drawn Alfred to the room, who more or less told them to deal with it. The first few times they slept in the same bed, they were cold to each other and distant. 

 

Jason thawed first. He just didn’t care and who could blame him? He had a warm bed and warm showers and a full stomach and a way to let out all his excess energy. He didn’t even have to have sex for it. It turned out that Jason was funny. 

 

Dick couldn’t resist humor. Jason made him laugh more nights than not. And Dick was more than happy to help him whenever Jason needed some pointers on how to deal with Bruce. Dick was there when Jason went from fourteen to fifteen and didn’t tell anyone it was his birthday. It wasn’t until a week later that Jason fessed up. 

 

One night Jason got home from patrol and walked into the room still wearing his Robin uniform. He peeled off the layers until he was naked, then crawled under the covers and gave an exhausted sigh. He smelled like Gotham. Jason lay on his stomach, breathing fast and wiggling because of the adrenaline stil coursing through him. 

 

Dick had watched him in the sliver of moonlight that shone through the window. It was still too early for his body to actually sleep and he had had a quiet evening in with Alfred, watching Lifetime movies and drinking spiked tea. “Do you want to have sex with me?” He wasn’t even horny, hadn’t even been  _ thinking  _ about that. 

 

Jason propped himself up and grinned. His teeth shone white in the moonlight. “Do I?” His voice had taken on that excited Robin tone, the one he only used when he was flying or kicking bad guy ass. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to have sex with, Dick.” 

 

They were words that Dick desperately needed to hear. But not from Jason. However, Dick had been cut off from Bruce’s affection. He was between lovers his own age. And Jason was pretty and he was alive and he was like fire.

 

It turned out that Jason didn’t do anything halfway. He gave his all while fighting crime and he gave his all while fucking Dick. Jason was explosive and reverent. He acted like a kid in a candy store, touching Dick with eager hands and whispering excitedly about how he’d dreamt of doing this. 

 

Dick let Jason do what he wanted with him. He touched but it wasn’t quite the same as touching Bruce; Jason was still young and hadn’t filled out yet. Regardless, Dick enjoyed himself and Jason very clearly did as well.

 

After that, Dick was careful not to ignore Jason but also not to come around too often. He never let Jason leave marks on him, even though Jason begged to mark him up, and he never left any on Jason. Bruce would ban Dick from Gotham forever if he found out. And he would probably take his anger at the ‘betrayal’ out on Jason, whether he meant to or not. 

 

Maybe a little too late, Dick realized that he was using Jason to make up for Bruce’s lack of affection. Bruce always treated sex like this thing his body had to do and he treated Dick a bit like an over-enthusiastic puppy. He indulged in Dick’s desires but Dick had to fight for every last thing. With Jason it was the complete opposite. Dick’s fame preceded him and Jason loved the Last Flying Grayson. Jason whispered filth in his ear but he also whispered things like “you’re beautiful, so fucking beautiful.” 

 

They had sex every time Dick came over for the next three and a half months. And during that time, Jason had coaxed Dick into being very vocal about what he was thinking. It was Pavlov's Dog training; every time Dick spoke, Jason rewarded him with physical contact. Dick knew it. Jason knew it. Neither of them ever brought up the conditioning. 

 

There was nothing out of the ordinary about the night that Dick found himself with Jason curled around him, nuzzling and nosing the back of Dick’s neck. Jason was going through a growth spurt; he’d shot up three inches in as many weeks. He didn’t like being the little spoon anymore, not now that they were about the same height. “Tell me something true,” Jason whispered.

 

He liked hearing facts. Jason didn’t have much time for fantasy, though he devoured fantasy books just as much as scientific magazines and nature documentaries. When it came to the spoken word, Jason needed truth. Dick was used to the game by now. He usually spouted out whatever first came to mind and tonight was no different. “I’ll kill myself if I can’t have you.” 

 

Dick felt rather than heard Jason’s breath hitch. Jason rolled Dick onto his back and settled on top of him. “For real?” 

 

Dick barely had to think about it. It was hitting him now, what he said. But Dick didn’t find a lie there. “Yeah.” He pulled Jason down for a kiss. “Yes, Jason. I would.” 

 

Jason kissed him back, wet and hot. He shook in Dick’s arms and kept whispering about how he wasn’t going to go anywhere. 

 

A few days later, Jason was beaten to death by the Joker. 

 

Dick thought about killing himself. But he didn’t. He couldn’t do that to Bruce or to himself. And though it was hard and though Jason had left a terrible gap in their lives, Dick kept right on living. He and Bruce tentatively made up. When the new Robin showed up - this one actually showed up for the job - he wasn’t like Jason. He was an innocent. So Dick was welcomed back into Bruce’s bed and Bruce was none the wiser about what had happened between his two sons. Dick used the same tactic on Bruce that Jason had used on him and soon it was Bruce’s voice that had replaced the filthy whispers in his ear. As unhappy as Jason’s death made him, Dick was shamefully content with Bruce. 

 

Dick didn’t expect Jason to come back to life. He didn’t expect Jason to fight Bruce or kidnap the new Robin. He didn’t expect Jason to completely ignore him. It took Dick a while to realize that Jason orchestrated everything so that they never fought each other, never had the chance to so much as exchange greetings. It took a lot of clever planning on Dick’s part to get close enough to Jason for long enough to talk to him. 

 

In the end, Dick had to use surprise. He let Batman be his distraction and Dick sneaked up on Jason. 

 

Jason didn’t fight. He twisted in Dick’s grip so that they faced each other. His expression, which was so full of anger while looking at Bruce, went cold and flat. “You lied.” To the boy who valued truth, Dick had done something terrible by living. 

 

“You came back,” Dick countered. Not that he’d known Jason would come back. Not that he’d even hoped for it because it had seemed impossible. 

 

“And now you can’t have me,” Jason hissed. He wretched himself from Dick’s grip. “Your move, Dick.” Jason launched a grapple and took off into the night. He took part of Dick’s heart with him. 

 

It would always be Dick’s move because Dick wasn’t going to do it. 

 

Jason never brought it up again but after that, every time they say each other, his eyes held the challenge. 

 

_ I’ll kill myself if I can’t have you. _

 

_ Your move, Dick. _


	5. Panic Attack (Tim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thotwing on tumblr said "Can I request Tim for the **panic attack**?" Of course you can! I hope you enjoyed this.  <3 This one doesn't _really_ have a ship since none was requested but the jaytim vibes are not your imagination. What is canon, again?

Some habits don’t die. To be fair, this was a habit that Tim didn’t put much effort into breaking. It paid to know where Jason was. If he wanted to justify himself he could have, but Tim was trying to be honest with himself. He just liked knowing where Jason was and what he was doing and watching him on shitty street cameras. 

 

It wasn’t just Jason that Tim watched. He kept an eye on the others too. But mostly it was in relation to Jason. Jason was his sun and everyone else was just planets in the void. 

 

Right now, Tim was following Jason’s progress on the cameras, switching between views as Jason moved throughout the city. He couldn’t let Jason out of his sight. Because a few hours ago, Jason shot Penguin in pubic. It was an execution. Penguin had been rushed to the hospital even though no one thought there was any hope of saving him. 

 

Batman was hot on his trail, a black streak of pure anger. He didn’t ask for help to track Jason down, which was just as well because neither Tim nor Barbara would tell him where Jason was. Bruce was too angry to be doing this. Selina had left him at the altar and Jason had pulled this stunt. Bruce was emotionally stunted at the best of times. This was not the best of times.

 

Jason was strong and he was healthy. He had a good headstart but it wouldn’t last with the single-mindedness that Bruce exhibited while hunting him. Jason hid on a rooftop, just barely in sight of a camera. He took a quick swig out of a flask; it was water in there, or mostly water. The flask just made it easier to carry around and it looked cool. Then Jason lit up a cigarette. A sure sign that he was stressed if any that Tim had ever seen. Jason only smoked when he was very, very stressed out. 

 

Tim switched screens and searched for Batman. He found him, closing in on Jason fast. Tim tapped into Jason’s comm. “Jay, B’s at your six!” 

 

Jason had just enough time to pull his helmet back on before Batman descended on him. 

 

The ensuing fight was brutal; even by Batman’s standards. Bruce hit Jason so hard that his helmet shattered. He dragged him across the rooftop by his head, like Jason was a doll he didn’t care about. Bruce broke Jason’s arm. He hit him again and again and again. 

 

Although to call it a fight would imply that both parties were fighting. This was a beating. Jason tried to defend himself but he didn’t fight back. 

 

Tim heard Jason’s pained grunts and gasps over the comm. “Fight back! Goddamn it, Jason! Fight him!” Tim wasn’t even sure if Jason could hear him. Bruce had hit him so goddamn hard that Jason’s ears were probably ringing. 

 

Bruce was still wailing on Jason. He wasn’t showing any sign of stopping. 

 

Ice cold panic surged through Tim’s veins. Bruce wasn’t stopping. Jason wasn’t fighting back. Tim pulled out his phone and called Arsenal. “Bruce is killing Jason!”

 

“Where are they?”

 

Tim told him. 

 

“I’ll get him. On my way now.” 

 

Tim followed Arsenal’s progress via the cameras. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.” He winced with every assault on Jason. Tim’s hands went numb when he realized that Jason wasn’t moving anymore. Bruce landed a hit on Jason’s chest and Tim’s heart skipped a beat in sympathy. 

 

Arsenal showed up a few minutes later. He grabbed Jason’s limp body and ran for it. The only reason they got away was because Bruce didn’t follow them. 

 

Tim told Arsenal where to go. He talked him

through taking care of Jason’s wounds. Tim’s hands were cold and shaking. His heart thundered in his chest. His chest tingled with residue fear. He muted his side of the comm and put his face in his hands. Unshed tears prickled his eyes and filled his vision. 

 

Bruce would have killed Jason.

 

Tim’s stomach twisted. His mind replayed it over and over again. Bruce didn’t even hit the Joker that hard. Panic wove up Tim’s spine. Tim hadn’t moved by the time Bruce came back. He was still in the chair at the Bat Computer, hunched over with his face in his hands. 

 

Bruce stopped beside Tim. “You were watching.” It wasn’t a question. 

 

Tim didn’t move. He felt like a child hiding under the covers in the hopes that a monster wouldn’t find him. The monster had already found him. 

 

Bruce continued, “Jason’s behavior is unacceptable. Private murders are bad enough but public executions are worse. I can’t keep letting him run around killing people in my city. I did what I had to do to stop him from killing again.” His voice was calm, patient. How it was when he was teaching Tim a new skill. 

 

The twin snakes of panic and anger curled around Tim’s chest and tightened like vices. Cold seeped into his hands and feet. He thought about telling Bruce that in the future he kills Damian and assumes the mantle of Batman. He thought about asking Bruce if Bruce would beat him within an inch of his life for killing the only son Bruce seemed to care about. 

 

And Tim saw everything put into perspective right there. Dick and Jason had been chosen, Damian was blood related. Tim has forced himself into Bruce’s life; a threat that had been neutralized. He was Bruce’s least favorite, somewhere behind Jason, but he was the best behaved. Step out of line and Bruce would probably start treating him how he treated Jason. 

 

Tim’s throat threatened to close. He took shallow breaths through his mouth so as to not alert Bruce to how close Tim was to losing it. He needed to leave. Now. Being around Bruce made his skin prickle and his nerves frayed. Tim took a moment to compose himself. Then he stood up and looked at Bruce.

 

There wasn’t an ounce of regret in Bruce’s body language. 

 

_ You’re a monster _ , Tim wanted to say. He didn’t. He walked out of the cave without turning back even once. If he looked back he would start a fight and Bruce still had Jason’s blood on his knuckles. No need to add more. Tim kept walking, right out of the manor and into the surrounding woods. It was only after Tim was good and hidden beside the trunk of a massive tree that he dropped to his knees and started crying. The fear, pain and, anger poured out of Tim in a massive rush of tears and gasping sobs. Tim cried until his tears dried up and he was left with hiccups. 

 

Tim wiped his face clean and stood up. He would find Jason and they would decide what to do with the monster Bruce had become. 

**Author's Note:**

> Want to request one of your own? Just drop by my tumblr and send me an ask. [Bad Things Happen Bingo Card!](https://the-fawnling.tumblr.com/post/178905467949/here-is-your-card-for-bad-things-happen-bingo)


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